Just a Little White Lie(53)

Somewhere along the way, even before last night, before he’d done all those delicious and wicked things to her body, things had changed.

She’d gambled and lost. Lost her way, lost her heart.

A week ago she hadn’t known Jake Parker existed. Now, she wanted nothing more than to throw down her purse and fling herself into his arms. She didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to sleep anywhere but beside him.

Just looking at him left her hot, bothered and wanting more.

Which was exactly why she had to leave. Knowing their engagement, their time together was only temporary, could only ever be temporary, she couldn’t stay. If she did, she’d be back in his arms, back in his bed, and it would only hurt that much more when she headed south. Back to her life. Back to reality. Back to what had to be.

It was time to run away and lick her wounds.

“Your grandmother is fine, Jake. You said so yourself. We don’t have to pretend anymore.”

“Everybody else still thinks—”

She straightened her shoulders. “We weren’t pretending for everyone else’s sake.”

“So what do we do now?” Stance wide, face belligerent, he braced his hands on his hips. “Announce to the town that it was a joke?” He shook his head. “I’m gonna have to pack up the hog and take off again.”

“You had to have given this some thought, Jake. Even you, the non-planner, knew this wasn’t long-term.”

“I did. But…well, hell, Dad lied to me.”

Her brow creased. “And we didn’t lie?”

“Well, yeah, we did, but that was different.”

“Oh?”

“Look, Lucy, you and I both know this whole thing was pretty much spur-of-the moment. But Dad said Gram was sick. I didn’t know how much time she had left, and I needed to do something. I figured I’d bring you here, let the two of you spend the week together, then we could explain you needed to get back to Florida, back to work. She’d understand that. That would buy me time to come up with something else. If I needed to…” He trailed off.

She hesitated, remembering again that he’d come back expecting to lose his grandmother. “But Hattie is fine.”

“Yes.” Relief softened his face. “Thank God.”

“And now I’m bailing before you can formulate a new plan to salvage your pride.”

“That about sums it up. Before you say anything else, I want you to know I accept all the blame. My idea. My mess. My big mouth announced it at the Dixie Dog last night. Still, it’s gonna be hell facin’ everybody.”

Sheepishly, she realized she hadn’t once considered the social impact her actions would have on Jake. This was his hometown. His life. Of course he’d want to save face. She could head back to Florida, but he had to stay here. Settle back into his law practice, work and live with these people.

Among all the emotions trampling through her, a deep sense of shame rose to the surface. She’d had a problem and gotten herself in a real pickle. One that had nothing whatsoever to do with Jake. Yet because he’d stepped in to help, he’d ended up entangled in the mess that was currently her life. Now she was running, leaving him behind to face the consequences.

But you didn’t ask him to help, the devil on her shoulder whispered.

No, but you certainly didn’t turn him down, either, when he offered to rescue you, her conscience argued.

For a price, the little devil added.

One you agreed to, her conscience reminded her.

Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. “I’m not heading to Dodge, Jake. I’ll still be right here in Pride.”

“For a couple more days,” he groused.

“Yes, for a couple more days.” She sighed and ran the fingers of her right hand over her left, bare ring finger. She hadn’t put it back on after last night and it felt strange not to have the diamond there.

Not bad. Just strange. She’d gotten used to it. But then, she’d gotten used to a lot of things, hadn’t she? And rather than rock any boats, she’d been willing to go along for the ride. Not anymore. Time to grow a backbone.

“We both knew going into our—” she searched for the right word, “—our agreement, Jake, that I had one week. Seven days. Period. You can’t ask more of me than that.”

“Things have changed.” He kicked the Jeep’s tire. “Am I really that awful?” he asked, spacing his words evenly. A look of resigned sadness passed over his features. “Is staying here at my place so unbearable?”

She didn’t answer.

His voice dropped. “I enjoyed last night. And unless I’ve lost my touch, I think you did too. If the sounds you made—”